That Cold Day in Hell, Just Got Warmer..........

Hello, my fellow Amerikkkans. My name is G.eo.rge B.u.sh and my interests include bombing innocent people just to protect me and my comrades oil interests, hiding Osama Bin-Laden in the laundry room in the White House, drinking 40-oz with my homeboy Colin, and getting my cut on with that sexy Condoleezza Rice. I just wanted to let you know, that even though I didn't win the popular vote in 2000, hell, I don't expect to win it in 2004 either. I guess what I'm really trying to say is, if you don't vote, it's alright with me, I'll just call my brother Jeb up and he'll cause another hissy fit among those ignorant Niggers down in Dade County because their vote didn't get counted. Hmm, too bad they didn't know that their vote wouldn't have counted anyway because I had the poll workers switch out the ballots and what they were really voting was on was what to name the new Trick Daddy album! I'm loving this! I'll see you again in 2004.......

That was my public service announcement, Negros get out and vote...........

Black Folks vs Niggas

Okay, I lied, I'm back. I just thought I needed to share this bit of information with the few readers of my blog. Tonight, I had a decent time. Me and my little Peanut went out with my friend and her son to a little town fair. It was fun! My little Peanut rode three rides, including a roller coaster that was deemed benign by her unsuspecting mother that turned out to be on the same level as a roller coaster ride at Six Flags (my ass was scared, all she did was suck her two finger as usual and say "aaah" every once in awhile). Anyways, my friend and I decided that we would take the cheap route with food and go somewhere else other than the fair, I mean they were charging $5.00 for some nachos. So, we stopped at a few more places before got something to eat. My friend decided that she was much too hungry for some Chick Fil-A and suggested Mrs. Winners. I told her I wasn't in the mood to die from clogged arteries tonight, so I suggested the new Ruby Tuesday's next to the shopping plaza we were in. Alas, the line was too long, so we ventured next door to Longhorn's and again the line was out the door. I didn't think that people in town for the Black College Football Classic in Atlanta would be this far south from where all the action was, but I was saddly mistaken. You couldn't shake a toothpick in none of those places. So, I was hungry and fastly approaching bitch mode because I hadn't eaten since 1 that afternoon, not to mention little Peanut was chewing on anything she could get her little hands on. Out of growing desperation for food, I suggested TGI Fridays near Greenbriar. Now, for you people who are not familiar with the Greenbriar area, let's just say it's the Blackest, Niggerish part of Atlanta. Not the kind of place you want to be after, say, five o'clock in the afternoon. Mind you it's nine o'clock and some change by this time, so head on over anyway. When we get there, the line was out the door. Growing frustrated and desparate by the minute for some sustenance, I make the final and most heartwrenchingly terrible decision of suggesting the IHOP next door. Now, before I get started with my ensuing tale, let my preface all of this by saying, THE PARKING LOT WAS PRACTICALLY EMPTY! So, we go in and sure enough, the place was barely full. You would think that we would get excellent above superior service. I mean service so good that you would slap yo mama and tell her that she was a lazy, lazy broad (now, I'm just kidding about all this. If you have a mama like mine, you know you couldn't tell her some shit like that!) So, the (hoe) stess escorted us to our seats. No, hello welcome to IHOP, yadda, yadda. Just a barely audible "hello" and that's it. Now that I think about it, I don't think the heffa said that. Anyway, so she shows us to our table and of course I asked if they had a highchair for my daughter and she said yes. My fault, I should have asked her to bring me a highchair. So, I proceeded to do that, to THREE DIFFERENT WAITERS! Finally, after none of those three waiters that I asked either refused or just didn't plain feel like doing shit because it was their night off and they were spending it at work to bring me a highchair, I proceeded to grab one from the back and sit it at the table. By this time the broad that was supposed to be our waitress was already seeing her tip go down the proverbial drain. I asked the heffa to bring a cup of chocolate milk for my friend's son. She said okay, so I'm thinking it's not a difficult task. However, this task was never completed because instead of trying to take care of one table at a time, this broad was helping everybody that came in! Mind you the ratio of waitresses to customers was something like 12:5 because nobody was in there. After waiting an unmentionable amount of time for some service, I got my shit and my baby and walked the hell out. No, I did not pay for my Coke and my baby's milk. Why? I think that's a dumb question to ask. What's probably more disturbing is the fact that the dumb ass heffa's at the cashier didn't even bother to ask if we had paid or anything. They didn't bother to say goodbye or anything. I was heated as hell. Here I was hungry and couldn't get shit to eat. So, we gave TGI Fridays one more try. We walked in and we asked how long the wait was and the hostess said about 15 to 20 minutes long for the non-smoking area to which I replied, we'll take a table in the smoking section. I guess that shocked her being that we children. I told her if these children can breathe the stankin ass smoggy air in Atlanta, cigarette smoke ain't shit to them. So she seated us and we received the best damn service this side of Campbellton Road. I even got slizzard whild I was there, so even if one of them fornicated under the consent of the king 'ed up, I wouldn't have even noticed. I ate my meal, my Peanut ate her meal and my friend and her son ate their meals, and all was copasetic and shit at last.

The moral of this post is to show the difference between Black folks and Niggas. I will never patronize a Niggas establishment. Black establishments will always get my dollar. Black folks know how to treat customers and knows that repeat business is not the name of Eric B. and Rakim's latest album, like a Nigga probably thinks, but is important to the livelihood of a business. By no means am I bourgie. I am as ghetto as the next Nigga, but I know how to conduct myself in a professional manner. I can't patonize an establishment that doesn't appreciate my green dollar. The next time somebody says support Black businesses I'm going to ask them if they for certain that they are indeed Black and not Niggerish. Because tonight, I tell you that shit that went down in IHOP made me hot enough to almost join the KKK. Like Chris Rock said: " I love me some Black folks, but I hate some Niggas" Amen.

Well, I'm not going to overwhelm you all, being as that this is my first post in a minute. I'll have to bring you up to speed on the events that have happened in the past two weeks that I have been MIA. Until the next time.........

Life as we know it....

This is probably the last time I will post. I've realized with the events that have transpired over the past four days, I have way too much stuff to deal with that I don't feel like divulging to those few people that read my posts. My life is complicated and probably will continue to increase in eccentricity as I get older and dumber by the day. One thing that I've realized is that you should never say what you won't do, what you won't say, or what you won't put up with. Life has a funny way of making a liar out of a person. Sometimes we have to realize that although we spend thousands of dollars going into debt to become "intelligent" beings, we are still stupid. Our emotional intelligence quotient is so low that we don't even realize it. It will continue to always be low because we think with our hearts and not our minds. Logic has no place in affairs of the heart, because if it did, we wouldn't keep making mistakes. I guess I should know, because I keep making the mistake of taking back my baby's father even though he's worthless for my baby and me. Love is strange, my heart is even stranger. I can confess with my mouth that I don't like him, love him, etc., but with my heart, I love him more than I should and dream of the family that I so desperately want with him. I can't fix him, only God can. I need to let him be, but I keep finding my way back to him. This post isn't just about my ongoing mishaps with my sperm donor it's about the ongoing trials that I have observed with my friends and family. We have a desire to be loved and understood and sometimes that desire can lead to tragic results. In short, be careful of who we judge. As a matter of fact, we should'nt judge anyone simply because I don't know of one person who wasn't put their heart on the line for someone. As a matter of fact, I don't know of one person who can honestly say that they haven't played the fool. I know I can't ....

Since, I mentioned that this will probably be my last post, I will leave the post open to a possible continuation in the future.................

If You Only Knew......

I'm tired of being chunky, so I've decided to go on a Black and Mild diet. It's a diet consisting of nightly Black and Mild smoking. There's nothing like a Black and Mild to kill the appetite and funk up your breath so that food won't even go in your mouth! I'm hoping to lose at least 20 pounds on this diet. In the event that a single pound doesn't come off, then I will use the tongue piercing diet. I've heard that it's guaranteed to make an individual drop those unwanted pounds....Stay tuned for the results.....

Last night, I had the strangest dream. Now, I usually have some no-nonsense dreams, but this one was strange because I actually remember eerie details about it. I dreamed that I met this dude named Donnie. He was from London and was the most sensitive, caring, and sexiest dude I will probably ever meet (sad, he was truly a dream guy!). Anyway, we met in a bar or either a recording studio and just hit it off immediately. We talked for a spell then we started cuddling then kissing. It went on for hours, then he suddenly had to leave. I remember him asking me to come to London to be with him. I don't think I got a chance to answer him because the DAMN PHONE RANG!!!!!!!!! Negros know how to fornicate under the consent of the king up a dream! Well, I was telling my cousin my theory behind the dream-I'm listening to my Floetry cd too damn much. I can't help it, those damn Brit Chicks are the bomb! If you don't have their cd, you need to cop that-"imejitely" (in the words of the immortal Bernie Mack in the Player's Club).

In other news, XTC was looking so damn good at work tonight, I almost melted in my chair just looking at him! He was showing off his sexy guns with those tattoos just glistening in the light. Ohmigod, I'm gonna freak! (white girl estrogen melt down simulation) I just need five minutes of his time, I'll show him what a girl who hasn't had any in .....well, let's just say a very long time, would do to him. Oh, Lawd, I can't take this! If I can't have him, then I at least want him to design a vibrator with his face on it or something.....anything. Am I obsessed with this beautiful, black creature? Hell yeah! Don't let me find out where he plays with his band, I'm gonna toss my newly purchased Victoria Secretions draws on stage......Know this!

Until the next time...........

What The Hell?

Alright, I had something important to say, but I've forgotten about it, so I'll just talk about some random junk.

I have been talking about how sweet and intellectual a certain person has been, but I found out Friday that he's an asshole just like every other dude that I've met. The guy that shares the same name as my sperm donor is a condescending little punk who nearly got his ass whooped on Friday. As you all already know, I'm a lowly security officer. On Friday, I had my first real emergency. The fire alarm on my floor went off. Being unconcerned and frankly, just damn tired, I didn't do much. I called downstairs to the building security's desk and asked what was going on. The smart ass security officer on the other end retorted: "you tell me, the alarm is coming from your floor". Being that I was already not giving a damn, that negro should've been glad that I didn't cuss his ass out mercilessly. Anyway, I maintained and went about my business. I was chatting with little punk ass, as he is known to me now, when the alarm went off. He came up front and we went about the premises to investigate the possible cause of the alarm being set off. I don't even remember what we were talking about, but I do remember talking to me in such a condescending manner, that I was immediately pissed off. I proceeded to go off on his ass and then went about my business. You would think that after my little tirade that he would back the fornication under the consent of the king off..NOOOOOO! He keeps on talking shit. So by this time, I'm ready to drop his ass over the rails and watch his little puny ass fall to the ground. In a couple of minutes the alarm finally shuts off and everything is copasetic and stuff. I'm back at the desk listening my Launch radio, when this fools comes up to my desk and strikes up a conversation. I told him how I felt about the shit that he pulled today and he then says: "that I'm always starting with him". What the hell ever! Negro, I don't even talk to your ass. You struck up the conversation with my ass. I could give a damn about you, I'm trying to holla at XTC anyways. Anyway, needless to say, he doesn't like me anymore. Ask me if I give a damn tomorrow. Well, I can give you answer ret nah (in the words of my dear grandmama). In the immortal words of Miss Sophia of 'Color Purple' fame, HELL NAW!

In other news today, I went to Victoria Secretions (yes, I meant to spell it like that) and purchased me some real nice and sexy draws! I was so excited about them I showed to my mama. I don't remember if she said she liked them or not, but she did ask me if I got the right size. People always think that big guls can't wear sexy draws and stuff. I'm too sexy for my Hanes Her Way bloomers, I've got to step up my game. Besides, I'm slowly but surely getting my ass back! Anyway, I'm about to go study some chemistry. Maybe in a few months, I'll be making some chemistry of my own with 'ol sexy man. Let me stop, that nigga is a straight dog. I was talking with one the janitors in the building and he told me that he was a dog. I asked him how he knew and he said "You talking to an old dog. An old dog can spot a new one." I'll take his word for it. I mean old boy is a drummer in a jazz band, so I know that he has a Marta bus full of groupies trying to get some free drinks at the clubs they're playing at. Anyway, I'm done, until the next time........